Yellow
by AnAnonymouse
Summary: A poor lost soul, a man undone. A rain falls in the forest, and beneath it, an alliance forms to defy the organization threatening to shred sacred bonds between pokemon and trainer.  Rated M: violence, mild language, and male/male pair. Updates Fridays.


**Chapter 1: Slip n catch**

Rain City was named 'Rain' City for good reason. Here, where sheer cliff sides crashed into thick forests on one border and an endless ocean on the other, it poured so heavily that fire and rock pokemon avoided the area and water pokemon flourished. It was on the outskirts of town, moving in from the thick forests that wove over jagged rock, where Yellow was struggling for his life. The pokemon strapped to his belt took some convincing to remain in their pokeballs. They were all exhausted, on the verge of unconsciousness, but none among them could stand to see Yellow struggle as he did to protect them from the harsh environment.

He slipped on the rock face. A long streak of mud ground into his pants leg and the wound set there. Yellow flinched, but he shook off the pain and concern for infection. He kept his eyes forward, ever upward towards the trail that would lead them out of the woods and to the nearest pokecenter available. His friends were in danger of losing their lives. "All my fault," he repeated to himself, "this is all my fault. All my fault."

Gloved fingers dug into the rock again and he pulled upward. Another exchange of terrain and he pulled against vines, began to struggle up the last meter towards the trail. In the distance, the land was clear enough to pick out a halo of city lights in the nighttime. Yellow yanked, the last struggle he could afford, when the vine broke.

The boy shouted as roots gave way. The fall was instantaneous but the sound of wind in his ears lasted forever. He hardly felt the impact, only thought of the five friends hooked into his belt that he had surly failed. His head struck hard against rock, and Yellow blinked against the flashing lights in his mind. He groaned, and this time, his eyes remained closed.

"...Wtch hesshed-"

The sheer amount of pain throughout his body made the words weaving into his awareness jagged little pinpricks in his ears. His brain seemed to pound itself relentlessly against the hard cage of his skull. It pounded, pounded with such a ferocity it felt the mass was attempting to smash its way out.

"Blnkts... nd...water...Make sure it's dry."

The atmosphere had changed. It was warmer wherever he had landed, devoid of excessive moisture, sucking, squelching mud and overwhelmingly frigid air. There was a draft still striking the skin of his face but it wasn't stinging so much as it was oddly soothing. If not for a noise close to his right, a clinking and rustling of man-made objects, he might have thought the softness beneath his back was flattened, dried out grass; that the sun had risen and the dampness evaporated.

Material shifted under his twitching fingers. Definitely man-made, definitely fabric, undeniably sheets.

Focus returning despite the remaining throb in his head, he could hear that above the shifting materials there was the more organic sound of creaking wood, rustling leaves, something tapping against glass, breathing that was his own, and, more importantly, breathing that wasn't.

Blue eyes cracked open and Yellow flinched against the bright light. Despite his momentary blindness, he instinctively began to sit up, and his hand moved to his belt in search of pokeballs.

A force shoved him down onto his back, a white gloved hand belonging to, he saw, a man garbed in black, eyes heavily shaded under his cap. He was leaned over, his gaze leaving Yellow for a pink shape moving about in the distance. "Bring me that cloth, Drusilla. Yes, and a glass of hot tea."

Hands were upon the wrist that belonged to the man holding him down. "Chura, Burges, Skyr, Greve, Brie-" the words were gasped out, murmured through the confusion of a concussion, "Where are they? Wh-what- are they okay?"

He was determinedly pushed a bit more into the mattress. "Sedatives as well, please, and quickly." For as fervent as Yellow's voice was, the man didn't appear to have heard him. Or worse still, wasn't paying him any mind.

"Hey!" Yellow struggled now and managed to slip away from the hand on his chest. The trainer, escaping a tangle of sheets, struggled to his feet and gasped at a sudden flare of pain in his injured leg. The stranger caught him just before collapse. "Where are they?" Yellow was trying to right himself but was far too disoriented by panic. "What happened to them?"

The flailing had startled what he now recognized as a chansey at a small camping stove, but other than its cry of surprise, nothing. The individual who supported his weight pushed him back towards the bed. Thin brows lowered. "I'd re-asses your priorities, boy-o. Get down and stay down. You'll crack your skull open if you fall over again and I'm not in the mood to clean anything else up."

Yellow's cheeks held the flush of embarrassment as he was deposited on the bed's edge, but his resolve was solid. "Where are they!"

"Those sedatives, Drusilla."

Chansey gathered a glass with a tiny paw, padding over carefully, an unmarked packet held tightly in the other.

The man took both offered items, ripping the top of the packet open and tipping a silvery powder into the glass. It was handed to Yellow with a tired, vaguely irritated look. "They're not dead, if that'll shut you up."

Yellow eyed the glass suspiciously. He pushed it back. "Churaaa!"

A medium-size bag in the corner of the room rattled. A flash of white light forewarned of a pokeball being broken open, and a rattata lept from the bag. It chittered loudly, spotted Yellow, and ran to the boy's side. Yellow quickly picked up Chura, assessing the pokemon's condition before hobbling over to the bag and digging out the other pokeballs.

Both stranger and Chansey emitted sounds of protest at the pokemon emerging and the youth's overexertion. The large pink creature rushed over, tapping Yellow on the shoulder frantically, continuing to make disapproving noises as it gestured. She cast glances back at the individual who must have been her trainer, but the man took to reclining in the chair, his intense focus on Yellow the only indication that he even gave a damn the kid was rummaging through his bag. The man swirled the tea in the glass absently. "Ch. Trainers. All the same, every last one of them." Legs uncrossed. Recrossed. "When you've finished being a pest, get back on the bed before you hurt yourself. Or break something useful. Like my patience."

Out from the pokeballs emerged a cubone, an oddish, a pidgey, and a poliwhirl. Yellow let out a deep sigh at finding them all relatively well. Out of the corner of his eye, Yellow caught Drusilla the chansey looking oddly proud of herself. The boy finally let weariness take him, now sorely aware of the tightly bound gash in his leg. He slumped into the poliwhirl and hugged him. "I'm so sorry," he murmured to them. "Thank fortune you're all okay..."

Yellow offered the pokeballs to them, and the pokemon returned. All but the rattata, who held her ground. Yellow didn't press the matter, and instead he set the pokeballs on his belt, then turned and looked to the man still watching him with hawkish eyes. Yellow, for the first time, was painfully aware of the stranger's gaze. "Thank you," he murmured quietly.

The man only continued watching him as he indicated the bed with a commanding, "Sit. Now."

Yellow did so obediently. The rattata followed afterward, keeping protectively by his side.

Again, the glass was presented to him and the anxious chansey followed, smiling with a grin that made its small beady black eyes glisten.

Chura the rattata watched the chansey approach, but did nothing to stop it. Yellow kept his hand at the rattata's back, reminding her to keep calm. He accepted the glass this time, sniffed the tea once, and then tasted.

Bitter. Much more so than most teas, though the aftertaste was admittedly not as bad. The man turned toward the chansey speculatively, plucking the empty packet the powder had been in and giving it a perfunctory sniff. "Wrong stuff again, Dru. But asprin'll do I guess." He finally stood. A gradual, sinuous rise to his feet, a languid stretch, a disdainful sigh as he tossed the tiny white packet into his still open bag. "I've done my part. Dru, pack up the stove. Boy-o, get yourself to a pokecenter and then a hospital. There's nothing else I can do here."

Chura lifted her ears urgently. She turned to her trainer. "Titatita!"

Yellow reached over and ran a hand over the pokemon's head and replied, "I don't think I can walk yet, Chura."

The rattata chittered disapprovingly and leaped from the bed. "Chura!" Yellow cried, but the pokemon had already cornered the strange man and his chansey at the doorway.

Rattata's loud chittering wasn't directed to the man, it was to the chansey, and the stranger would have returned the lack of respect if the damn thing hadn't been harassing his pokemon. As the chattering continued, Drusilla began to look increasingly more distressed. At a lull in noise, she shot him a plaintive look, but he met it blankly, setting his jaw as he slowly shook his head. "Kid can take care of himself."

Her tiny eyes widened ever so slightly.

"I said I'm done here and I mean what I say." He glowered down at the rattatata. "Go on, Dru. Walk around it."

The chansey's mouth quivered.

The human grit his teeth. His pokemon silently pleaded. The trainer's solidity faltered, and his expression began to shift to evident exasperation. Leave it to Drusilla to exhibit a moral backbone. "Fine. We'll take the trainer and this rabid thing to the pokecenter, but that's it. Does _that _satisfy you, Dru?"

She was quiet.

Rattata eyed the trainer suspiciously, but eventually ground her large front teeth together in an appreciative manner. The creature bobbed her head once then bounded back into the room, Drusilla in tow, where Yellow anxiously awaited.

The man returned to the bedroom where the chansey and rattata were attempting to help Yellow to his feet. Chansey's trainer looped an arm under shoulders and hefted upward. They paused as the startled boy regained his balance. "Ah! Um!" Yellow stuttered. "Thank you, um- can I get your name, sir?"

A pair of light eyes rolled. "Isn't necessary. Dru, get the front door."

The duo hobbled as Drusilla pushed open the door to more blinding light and a dripping, drying world outside. Everything that wasn't blinded by the sunlight looked as though it had been rendered to pieces by a sandshrew's claws.

Yellow's impromptu savior lightly kicked the dirt and shifted their weight. Dru had gotten the better of him again. Fine. At the very least, he'd be rid of the nuisance that had set him behind schedule for a long six hours and that, thankfully, would be that.

Both trainers and their pokemon trudged along a muddy, root-infested path towards the city. At first, only in silence. Chansey kept at the injured boy's side and the rattata took a vigilant lead on their surroundings. Yellow's teeth had become permanently set into his bottom lip, and his persistent but quietly pained expression seemed to soften the man's icy stare.

"Hm." He hummed, and that was all. Whether it was pity or boredom that lead the stranger to speak didn't matter. The fact was that he did, and some of the tension in Yellow faded in result.

Yellow's fingers adjusted against the man's shoulder, and the man pulled tighter under Yellow's arm in response. The boy's pace evened a bit. "H-how can I repay you?" Yellow asked quietly. "I would like to. And Drusilla, too. You're both very kind."

The man sighed, and adjusted the brim of his hat. "Look, it's common courtesy to help a fellow out if he's bleeding to death in a ravine, alright? 'Common' courtesy. If it'll make you feel better to think me kind, fine." Mud gurgled under their shoes, and the trainer noticed the younger's growing discomfort. He looked to Yellow analytically. "You're a foreigner, aren't you."

Yellow's cheeks flushed and he tilted his head away. "What makes you say that?"

"Tch." An arm jerked to adjust Yellow's weight, and they worked together to safely make it down a slick slope. "The gym's out on the edge of the forest. There's a path that leads right to it with guide posts and the works. Takes a special sort of trainer to get lost here." The man pulled upward on Yellow's shoulders, lifting him over a set of high roots. "And the annual poketournament in Rain City always brings them. You outsiders can't read a damn one of the signs. But I guess I'll give you credit for being able to _speak _the language."

Yellow laughed nervously, but it was cut short by having to place a bit of weight on his bad leg. Thankfully, the path seemed to be clearing, and urban sounds and the tops of Rain City's buildings towering over trees could be seen ahead. They would be at the pokecenter soon. He looked to Drusilla, who waddled along beside him. Yellow would have to say goodbye to her. Such a short but important collision of their lives. It was likely that even months -years- from now he'd remember Drusilla. And the stranger?

"I-I'm Lo." The boy swallowed dryly and offered his hand in greeting. "And you?"

"You don't need to k-" The man stared at the offering. His lips pursed. "Chartreuse."

Lo's lips turned into a little smile. His hand dropped away. "I'm glad I met you, Tru."

Chartreuse was about to protest the shortening of his name, but gave it up in exchange for addressing more important matters. "What were you doing in Rain City's Ravine during a flash flood? Most trainers have a little more common sense than that."

"Erk-" Yellow flinched against the subtle insult. Brows furrowed. "Um- we..." Ahead, Chura paused in her steps to look over to Yellow. There was a silent communication between trainer and pokemon. "We lost something in the woods." Yellow finally answered. "Then we got turned around and, um, well, ended up here."

It didn't seem to satisfy the question, but it wasn't pressed. "And so? Where are you heading after all this?"

"We're coming back into Rainy Forest to search. We'll stay at the Center overnight if we need."

The stare which had been fairly innocuous during their travel abruptly turned serious. "I'd suggest you bypass the forest, Lo. I've heard there's a large section of it that's been sectioned off by the police. Too much of a danger zone." The warning didn't seem to affect Yellow. He tried a different tactic. "After the damage you took, you'd be wiling to come back out here? What did you lose? Your mind?"

"No!" Yellow's angered shout startled both of them to a stop. Their gazes were locked, but Yellow quickly settled, turned his face away again. "I mean..." He shook his head. The forest seemed eerily quiet. "Yes, I'm willing to come out here again."

Chartreuse watched him warily. "Foolish little-" With a jerk, he lead them on with a sour expression. "Well, do what you will. You go to get yourself killed, don't expect me to be helping you out again. I've got work that needs to be done. I shouldn't be wasting my time here as it is." Tru's grip on Yellow loosened as the man reached around to rummage in his bag. He withdrew a small object and presented it to Yellow. The boy recognized it as a compass. "At least try not to throw yourself off a cliff face again. Don't they teach you trainers anything about survival where you come from?"

Yellow's face flat lined, and then turned slightly slanted. The boy reached out and took the compass. "Thanks..." He swallowed. "Um-" Yellow slipped the offering into his pocket. "-do you know where I could see a map of Rainy Forest?"

The question seemed to agitate Tru, but the man schooled himself to answer, "Look, the pokecenter has a veritable cornucopia of information for outsiders. They'll be able to give you a map, no problem."

Yellow perked up and smiled. "Alright!"

Kid had a stupid, honest face, no doubt. Tru sighed and shook his head slowly. The forest was beginning to clear, and a large sign with the pokecenter's symbol came into view. "Ask for some notes while you're at it." They stepped onto paved road and Tru indicated the large pokecenter ahead. The blue glass doorways and dome top was a welcome sight. "Ask Joy about currency guidelines. A map of the city _and _a map of the region. Ample supplies for long distance travel- not just for your pokemon. You need to remember to have a store of care items for yourself." His brows knitted together. "How you manged to get this far on your own..."

Yellow was beginning to look overwhelmed. The boy gripped nervously at Tru's shoulders and took another painful step.

Chura slowed, sensing Yellow's nerves, and padded along side. "Raaatattaat."

Yellow's expression attempted to shift to a smile, but instead he could only offer Chura an awkward grimace. "No, it's fine. It'll be okay."

"Tatta."

Yellow shook his head and straightened, lifting his chin against the stress of responsibility. "No. It's a good idea."

The look the man was giving him now was barely passable for uninterested. He appeared slightly perturbed beneath the thin veil of growing detachment, butting in after the chattering continued a few moments too long. "...Well..." Chartreuse clicked his tongue. He tried to bypass the bizarre mannerisms his temporary pet tourist seemed to exhibit. It didn't quite work. The pokecenter's sliding glass doors opened dutifully, and Tru deposited Lo on the couch directly beside the entrance. Lo let out a sigh when the weight on his leg could finally be relieved, and Tru adjusted his cap just as Joy spotted them from behind her counter. "Take care of yourself, boy-o," Tru murmured, "And if you get lost, for Bill's sake, ask someone where you are."

"Right." Yellow smiled and gave a friendly salute. "Will do. Thanks again, Tru. Maybe I'll see you again some time."

"Yeah. Maybe." Never.

Chartreuse raised a hand, saluting in return. "Later, 'Yellow.'"

A quick pivot on his heels and Tru was out the door with only seconds to spare between him and the oncoming Joy. As he briskly set back for the forest, he breathed a sigh of relief he hadn't been aware he was holding. Yellow. What a strange, strange little man...


End file.
